The Joy Of Asking Too Many Questions
by Eroskigal
Summary: What started out as Mike Schmidt just wanting a bit of income, suddenly turned into one of the biggest mysteries of his life. The place where he works has a huge danger behind it, and one that he's not entirely aware of. At least, not until he digs a little deeper, and teaming up with this down-to-earth police officer may be the only chance he has at cracking the case.


Prologue

March 20th, 1975

Relatives had been gathered from across the state, all in celebration of a young boy's birthday. A woman with blondish-brown hair and green eyes, wearing a kind expression, sat down a red velvet birthday cake, decorated with a race track and blue frosting, and used a lighter to light the candles.

As per tradition, they all sung Happy Birthday to the four-year-old boy, and after the song had come to an end, he immediately blew out his candles in one shot. The grown-ups all cheered for him, filling the young boy with pride.

"Happy Birthday, Mike." His mother congradulated.

"Happy Birthday, son." His father smiled.

"Arrr ye matey's ready fer a birthday song?" Foxy the Pirate called out from onstage.

Chica the Chicken cheered as well. "Yeah, everybody! Let's have some fun!" She called out in a kind of girlish, high-pitched voice.

"I've got my guitar, and I'm ready to play!" Bonnie the Bunny cried, in a voice that seemed a bit more cartoonish than the others.

"Happy Birthday to you, Mike! This song goes out to you on your special day!" The titular character, Freddy called out.

Mike watched in awe as the animatronics started playing on stage. Even some of the adults around him were watching eagerly as well. Mike's father took a minute to drop his smile and have a good look around the restaurant. They were the only ones having a party at this moment, so there was no one else here. Well, all accept for a single man sitting at a table in a far corner. He had no idea what a person like him could be doing there. He had no kids with him. All he was doing was watching the animatronic show. It was very strange.

Very strange indeed.

The song soon ended, and presents were handed out. Some of the adults started to help clean up the present packaging. "Mike, honey, do you wanna take a picture with the crew?"

Of course, Mike was ecstatic, so he quickly ran over and stood next to the animatronics. "Alright, smile..." She snapped the picture. "That's going in the album!"

Eventually, the party had to wrap itself up. (heh, birthday puns.) All the relatives had to leave, as most could only stay for the afternoon. Mike walked back to the car with his parents.

Mike's father was looking around the parking lot in order to find where they had parked their car, when unexpectedly, he made eye contact with the man he had seen sitting in the restaurant. It was a weird feeling, to be honest. The man's eyes were cold and empty, it seemed. The man was just about to get into his black-colored car.

Mike's father broke eye contact, walking forward and never looking back. Even though he couldn't see him, he knew the man was still watching them. As he and his family got into the car, Mike's father looked in the rear-view mirror, to find that the man was no longer there. He could see his car driving away into the distance.

"Is something wrong?"

He snapped his head away from the mirror to look at his concerned wife. "No, I'm fine."

She let it go for now, started the engine, and started driving off.

* * *

March 23rd, 1975

Mike couldn't sleep tonight. He didn't know why, but he just wasn't tired. Something seemed to be telling him that he needed to be up. Quietly, he opened his door and snuck out, hoping not to wake his parents up.

He walked over to the stairs, and was about to silently walk down, but to his surprise, a light was on in the kitchen. As it turned out, his parents really weren't asleep as he had first thought.

"Lawrence, what's wrong?" He heard his mother ask.

He could hear a sigh coming from his father. "Look, Beatrice, here's the deal. This party was just a one time thing. I don't think we should go back there, at least not until I get things figured out."

Mike's eyes widened. No more Freddy Fazbear's? But why? He loved it there, and his birthday party was a lot of fun. "I think I saw something important there...I can't put my finger on it, but I think it might have...It might be dangerous."

Something clicked in Beatrice's eyes. "You're talking about...oh..."

Well, Mike had no clue, that was for sure. "We have to protect Mike. He's young and still a child. He could be next."

Beatrice nodded. "I understand. No more Freddy's."

This was seriously an outrage. How could they deprive him, a kid with dreams, of his beloved pizzeria. The commercials on T.V. hadn't been ceasing in the slightest, actively advertising a trip to Freddy Fazbear's Pizza after the company had been bought recently.

He had finally convinced his parents to let him have his fourth birthday party there, and now, it had been taken away forever. Normally, Mike would confront his parents about this, but he didn't want them to find out that he'd listened in on them. The only choice he had left was to go back to bed and hope it would sort itself out in the morning.

* * *

August 18th, 1977

Rain poured down on this most appropriate of days. Mike Schmidt, now six years old, was standing on the cold, wet grass, protecting himself with his red umbrella. Relatives had once again been gathered around, but this time, it was for no birthday party. He hadn't shed a single tear, which was understandable, since he was still in the denial stage, but while being a kid, holding tears back wasn't an easy task.

He still couldn't believe that he was there in that moment. That right in front of him, there was a grey stone that read, "Here lies Lawrence Schmidt."

It was...unbelievable to say the least. "Are you okay?"

Mike looked up to find his mother, clearly trying to fight back her tears. "Mom, how did Dad die again?"

He saw her face freeze for a second. She then answered. "Your father...accidently took the wrong medicine...and because of that, he...he had a heart attack...they couldn't...they couldn't get him to the hospital in time."

Mike's usually upbeat personality was understandably dull today. When he first found out that his father had passed away, he immediately went up to his room and curled up into a little ball, trying to figure out how to take the news. His mother hadn't been handling it any better.

One night, when he found himself unable to sleep, his mother crying a few rooms down the hall. He didn't feel like crying in front of all these adults, however, so he decided to wait until he'd gotten home to do that.

* * *

January 30th, 1978

"Mom, I'm home from school!" Mike shouted as he entered the house.

Immediately, he locked the door behind him and went upstairs. First, he stopped by his own room and put his stuff away. He then walked down the hall and opened the door to his mother's room. She was lying in bed, watching T.V., as it was really the only thing she could do right now. "Hi Mom."

Beatrice looked over to her son and smiled at him. "Hi Mike."

As soon as she said that, she immediately irrupted into a coughing spree. And it was a pretty big one. "Mom, are you okay?"

Her fit came to a halt as he approached her. "I'm fine. Can you get me that glass over there, please?"

He did as he was asked and handed her the glass of water. "Do you need to go to the hospital?"

She tried to smile through the pain. "Maybe, but I'll have to get you a sitter somehow."

"Maybe you could get Mrs. Stone from across the street."

His mother agreed. "If I have to go to the hospital, you'll probably have to stay there for a few days."

Mike nodded. "Okay, but you should get some rest now."

It had been a few months since Mike's father had died, and since then, his mother's health seemed to have been deteriorating. Without his father, he's had to take care of her as best he could by himself. She was the only parent he had left, after all.

Once he left the room, Beatrice's smile faded. Taking a deep breath, she picked up the telephone and punched in a number. It took a second for the call to connect, and once it did, a mixture of relief and dread filled her. "Um, hello, Margret, it's me...I need to talk to you...about something important."

* * *

April 1st, 1978

Honestly, this was getting to be too much. First, his father had left him, and now, being buried right next to his father's grave, was his own mother. Two parents lost, within a span of two different years. "Here lies Beatrice Schmidt" the gravestone read.

He was already seven years old, and he had no more parents. He stood there silently, as a woman with brown hair, wearing a bun and green-rimmed glasses, touched his shoulder in a comforting manner.

His mother's condition had gotten the best of her in the end. She died in the hospital early in February. And they were having her funeral just in time for the April Showers. Before she died, Beatrice had handed over court custody to her sister-in-law, his father's sister, and his aunt, Margret. Now, he would be living with her and her husband, his Uncle James. He was doing so good this past year, trying to live without his father, but now he'd have to live without a mother, too.

His insides felt dull and almost non-existent. Everything around him was falling apart. There was almost nothing left of his parents. All their belongings had practically been handed to him. A box of books that his father used to read, were currently being stored in his closet. And he would have to take them all with him. "It-It'll be alright." His aunt said as she tried to comfort him. He loved his aunt, but no one could replace his parents in his eyes.

* * *

April 3rd, 1978

"Alright, so, your room is upstairs. Come help me move your stuff up there."

Silently, Mike did as he was told, and helped his aunt carry the heavy boxes. It was sort of a daunting task, but they managed to work together to help bring them all up. Once the task was completed, it was actually slightly rewarding.

Looking around the room, it seemed kind of bland. Obviously because he hadn't started unpacking. But it wasn't just that, everything around him was dull, and understandably so. It had only been two days since the funeral, and he was still kinda iffy. He was supposed to be in the denial stage right about now. Lately, he had been contemplating his future without his parents.

Margret knew what he must have been going through, so she purchased a book on how to help kids who are dealing with the loss of a loved one. She read most of it in one night, so she had some of the basics down. "If you want, you can start unpacking now, or you can wait till later on."

Mike's eyes were looking over his bed. "Thanks, Aunt Margret."

He plopped onto his bed and kind of just sat there. "We're having Mexican for dinner. I'll be in my studio if you ever wanna taco 'bout anything." She remarked as if she were a comedian. She left immediately after that.

Something about that last comment struck a weird chord within Mike. He had an odd, questioning expression on his face. "...What?"

* * *

October 13th, 1980

It had been a long day in the hospital. Mike had practically nothing to do all day while he waited. It was nearly ten in the evening. They should have been receiving news any minute.

He was currently sitting next to his Uncle James, and Mike could tell that he was nearly at his limit. Within the next few seconds, a nurse came out of the room with a smile. "Mr. Schmidt, the baby has been born healthy. You two can step into the room now."

Mike and James both shot up from their chairs and practically bolted towards the door, and found Margret lying in bed, holding a baby in a bundle. "Come in." She beckoned.

Both of them approached the bed in order to get a closer look. The baby was already asleep by this point. Margret handed the baby to James, and he held him in his arms. Mike asked the first question that anyone would be wondering. "What's his name?" "Well, your aunt an I have decided to name him David. Do you want to hold him?"

Mike put his arms out and James carefully handed the baby over. Mike got a pretty good look at his younger cousin, and silently smiled at the sleeping baby in his arms. From there, his life silently progressed further.

* * *

February 28th, 1991

Mike flipped to a picture of him and David playing a game with building blocks. Aunt Margret had snuck up behind them and snapped a picture for the album. He fast-forwarded to spring of '86, the year he won the Judo tournament. The next picture was one he took with his friend Thomas during the first semester of '87. Oh, those were the days. Sometimes he wondered what Thomas had been up to lately.

The most recent photos in the album were the ones from his High School graduation, celebrating the class of '89. In one, his entire family was in the picture with him, smiling on this most joyous of days. In another, Mike was by himself, giving a thumbs up while holding his diploma. Just the look on his face alone said. "Yeah, I got my diploma! Bet'cha didn't see that coming!" He actually remembered most of his teachers being pretty shocked.

Having reached the end of the album, Mike, now almost twenty years old, closed it. Lately, he'd just felt like reminiscing a little, since his twentieth birthday would soon be coming. He put the album back in the closet box, and walked out of the room.

* * *

 **Okay, so I kinda just wanna make one thing clear. This story will technically have "OCs" if you can even call them that, but they're mostly just there to flesh out the character's backgrounds. I mean, the nightguards have to have lives outside of the game, right?**


End file.
